


Just One Moment of Peace, Please

by hmweasley



Category: Dirty Dancing (1987)
Genre: Exhaustion, F/M, Kid Fic, Mother-Son Relationship, Yuletide 2019, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Frances is feeling more than just a little exhausted in life.
Relationships: Johnny Castle/Frances "Baby" Houseman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 58
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Just One Moment of Peace, Please

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kinky_kneazle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinky_kneazle/gifts).



> Written for kinky_kneazle as part of Yuletide 2019. I hope you like it! I was kind of surprised myself the direction it went in, and looking back on it, I think my own recent exhaustion played into this, though I don't even have a kid. I hope it's something like what you were looking for regardless.

Frances pressed down on the gas with force, a refrain of “please don’t pass a cop” running through her head. She had to get home as fast as possible. She cursed to herself as she drove. It had been essential that she leave work on time that day, but things had gotten the better of her like they always did. They were understaffed, had been since she’d joined, and she hadn’t been able to get away.

When the house came into view, she let out a long breath. She pulled up to the curb, not caring that the car was crooked, and flew up to the front door, almost forgetting to lock the car behind her.

“I’m home!” she shouted as the door swung shut behind her.

Three-year-old Logan cheered. Appearing at the far end of the hallway, he sprinted towards her and collided with her knees, nearly throwing her off balance. He pulled away before Frances could even pat him on the head, holding out his arms and making grabby hands in a silent plea to be held. Frances obeyed, hardly paying attention as she lifted her son to her hip.

Johnny had appeared from the living room at the same time as Logan, his face tight with tension as he hurried down the hall in a pace that was only slightly slower.

“I’m sorry,” Frances pleaded, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I tried to get home as soon as possible. There was—”

Johnny held up a hand. His shoes were already on, and he was tugging on his jacket when he looked at her.

“Later,” he said, his voice short though not quite angry. He didn’t have time for anger. “I have to go.”

He dropped a quick kiss to Logan’s forehead and another to Frances’ cheek before disappearing out the door without closing it behind himself.

Frances looked down at Logan, who stared back at her with bright eyes.

“Can we build a tower, Mama?”

He waved around a wooden block that Frances hadn’t noticed he was holding in the initial commotion.

After the day she’d had at work and her rush to get home, the only thing Frances wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep, but her son was staring at her, making that not an option.

“Have you had dinner yet?” she asked instead of answering the boy’s question.

Logan furrowed his brow and stuck out his bottom lip as he did his best to remember the last couple of hours.

“No. Daddy got chicken nuggets, but they cooking,” he decided, quickly becoming more interested in his block than his mom.

Frances put him back on the floor, nudging him in the direction of the living room.

“We can play in a minute, sweetie. Let me check on dinner first.”

Logan toddled away happily, leaving Frances a few seconds of silence before she headed for the kitchen.

* * *

Frances awoke to her shoulder being vigorously shaken by a small hand.

“Mommy, wake up! Mommy!”

She groaned, pressing a hand into her eyes. It took a minute before she was able to turn her head and look at Logan where he hovered above her, his knees digging into her side. His face was so close to hers that she instinctively rolled away, but he followed her, belly flopping on top of her to pin her in place. Frances groaned as the air was knocked out of her.

“Mommy, I can’t sleep.”

Frances shut her eyes for a few seconds, focusing on breathing. This had become a recurring problem, and nothing they did could get him back to sleep quickly. With Johnny’s side of the bed was still empty, Frances was on her own in getting him back into bed, but she was too exhausted to consider getting up.

“Logan, please go back to bed,” she groaned.

“I can’t, Mommy.”

He, at the very least, rolled off of her onto Johnny’s side of the bed. He took his time getting comfortable, twisting the sheets around his legs and rolling around until he seemed satisfied with his position, only to move again a second later.

“I’m not tired.”

“But it’s nighttime. Nighttime means sleep.”

She pressed her face into her pillow, half hoping she could fall asleep even as Logan tossed and turned next to her.

Logan mulled over her words, his bottom lip sticking out in a pout.

“You sleep when you’re tired. I’m not tired.”

Frances slowly opened her eyes.

“You are tired,” she said. “You just don’t feel like it.”

Logan’s forehead creased in a way that would have been adorable if it were daytime.

“That doesn’t make sense, Mommy!”

He threw his hands into the air, sitting up as he went.

Frances groaned and clutched her pillow tighter. Maybe he would fall asleep on his own if she didn’t engage with him.

For a minute it was quiet. Then, Logan broke the silence.

“Mommy, I’m bored.”

Frances pressed her face harder into the pillow, willing herself not to crack.

“Mommy, when will Daddy be home?”

She groaned and rolled onto her back. Logan’s face lit up in a smile when she looked at him again.

“Do you want to read a story?” she asked.

It was her one last method for putting him to sleep, though she dreaded having to make it through a book without drifting off. Logan cheered, running off to get one of his books. Frances took the few seconds of silence to rest her eyes.

* * *

Two days later, Frances found herself in an entirely different position.

The living room was quiet, with Logan at his grandparents’ house for the night. Frances had longed for peace and quiet, but it was a little unnerving to receive it. For so long, silence had been a sign that something was wrong.

If she wasn’t at home with Logan, she was at work, taking a million requests a minute and trying to complete them in record time. She no longer remembered how to be still and in the moment. And the way Johnny kept twitching beside her hinted that he didn’t either.

To cope, she leaned her head on Johnny’s shoulder. He ran his fingers through her hair, and that was enough to ease her worries.

“This is nice,” she said, nuzzling further into his side. “I wish we could do it more often.”

Johnny hummed in agreement.

The next day, Logan would be back, they’d have to work again, and they’d go back to running around like chickens with their heads cut off most of the time. But for the moment, at least, they could focus only on each other.


End file.
